


Save Me

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gardening, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Triple Drabble, Vines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A giant plant, once humanity's last hope for survival, finds a lonely android who likes talking to flowers.





	Save Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).



Those who once walked this planet bred the giant to clear up the mess they’d made of it. Artificial selection made it one of a kind, the size of a skyscraper, and they planted it on the outskirts of a bustling city. It was supposed to clear their polluted air with its leaves the size of double-decker buses, filter their poisoned water with roots reaching further than their underground transport network. It did, only not fast enough. Those who created the giant wilted, withered, died, but the artificial ones remained.

CG was a care-giving android. When CG’s owner died, when _everyone_ died, it nursed the tiny window box on its owner’s balcony instead. A horticultural book borrowed from a deserted local library said talking to plants helped them thrive, so CG told them stories about the humans it had cared for during its long activation period.

Weaving long, creeping vines through the city’s empty streets and along the sides of buildings, the giant sought sources of light and water, and places it might spread its seed. It found CG on a smog-blackened balcony holding a small watering can, reciting a fairy tale to a flourishing petunia. Camouflaging into the brickwork, it listened. The stories only ceased while CG recharged in the sun.

Over weeks, months, the giant’s vines crept further onto the balcony, hopeful that CG would notice its presence. It shared common ground with the android: a loneliness neither were supposedly capable of feeling.

One day, CG stroked its cold, synthetic palm along one of the giant’s vines.

“It was your purpose to save them,” it said, emotionless. “It was mine also.” It paused, almost waiting for a reply. “We have a new purpose now.”

The giant weaved a slender stem through CG’s fingers. Their purpose was each other.


End file.
